


hangover

by trixiechick



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixiechick/pseuds/trixiechick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fushimi isn't having a good day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hangover

**Author's Note:**

> for Totsuka's birthday... his first birthday after he dies...

Fushimi was ten minutes late for his duty shift, but he didn't think it mattered, because it _honestly didn't_. Plus, he'd been up until two filing reports, anyway, so coming to work on time didn't matter. He was also slightly hung over, and that pissed him off because he couldn't even _remember_ the last time he got hung over. Probably while he was still in middle school when he and...

That shit he swiped from the Captain's office must have packed a bigger punch than he'd thought.

As if being hung over and late for 'work' wasn't bad enough, the idiots in the hallway were chatting and taking up the whole hallway, laughing about _getting chocolate from Lieutenant Awashima_. With great forbearance and restraint, he did _not_ bash their skulls together, but he _imagined_ doing it, in great detail. And he clicked his tongue. They nearly jumped, turning to see him. And then they got the fuck out of his way like they should have from the start.

It was ten after eight, and it was already a terrible day.

He came into the computer room, annoyed that his coworkers existed, annoyed that he had to work at all, annoyed that it was morning, and just generally annoyed. The Lieutenant, however, was not there, so it truly and spectacularly didn't matter that he was late.

"You're late," Akiyama said quietly as he went to his station.

"Am I?" Fushimi replied acidly. He got to his station and... just stopped. "What the _fuck_ are these?" he pointed at the small, decorated boxes next to his computer.

"Maybe they're from the Lieutenant!" Fuse suggested merrily.

"Try saying that while she's here," Fushimi shot back right away. Fuse shrank back. Fushimi glared at Akiyama. "These damned well better not be from you..."

Akiyama rolled his eyes. "A couple of girls from the department left them for you. They apparently don't know you very well."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with them?" Fushimi demanded. They weren't in fucking high school! What the hell kind of government employee gave coworkers chocolates on Valentine's day? It was stupid!

"I don't know, I imagine you can apply your formidable intellect to the task," Akiyama teased, speaking quietly. "I would think... it's because you're young. They think..." he shrugged, turning his attention back to his own monitor. "You know, that you'd need more looking after or something. It's not such a big deal, is it?" Akiyama was giving him a sidelong look.

It annoyed Fushimi fiercely that Akiyama was so calm and _rational_ all the fucking time. It was annoying that stupid girls in the department thought he would like shit like this. He didn't even like it back in high school when he was banging some of the chicks. "Tch," he let out, flicking the boxes away from his keyboard. He sat down, and thought about throwing them out, or burning them, or giving them away.

He settled on ignoring them.

He went through his morning routine. He read emails, including the daily cheerful letter from the Captain, which today included a haiku from some long-dead stiff about rain in the winter or some such crap. He monitored his surveillance programs, set up to capture feeds from security cameras in order to spot supernatural activity. He'd also written a subroutine to catch when people had sex in public. He looked over reports from other departments. He installed a virus in a corrupt senator's cell phone that rerouted all calls to sex lines. He played a shooting game.

His headache was nearly gone when Awashima burst in and started to demand status reports. He couldn't be bothered jumping to attention or turning off his game, so she came to him. He ignored her best he could while still answering her. And then she icily told him that he shouldn't have food at a workstation, to which he icily responded that _he_ didn't put them there.

His headache had returned.

He was thinking about cutting out early and taking a nap for lunch when a girl came into the room, and stood by the door nervously. "Fu-Fushimi-san?"

He looked over his shoulder at her, but his expression must have been pretty scary, because she jumped back, and looked away. 

"Ahh... you... you have a visitor... in the lobby, sir!" she told the ceiling.

"Visitor?" he asked. He hadn't even gone out on a day off lately, so it couldn't be a one night stand looking him up. He honestly couldn't think of anyone, but... he'd been thinking about leaving anyway, so... He got to his feet, and shuffled to the door, his hands stuffed into his pockets. 

Just as he came aside of the girl, she leaned closer to him, and whispered, "He's from HOMRA, sir. Y-Your visitor..."

"Eh?" he gave her a confused look. His heart dropped. Was it Kusanagi-san? But, he'd just go talk to Munakata, right? He had no business with Fushimi. So... He'd _like_ to think there was only one person it could be, but it might possibly be Anna, or that fat freak. He didn't bother asking her anything more. No matter who it was, he was pretty much obligated to go see them.

Still, he felt oddly nervous or possibly excited. He scratched his chest. Because... it _could be_...

His head was pounding. He wasn't really in shape for meeting Misaki, but...

Sure enough, when he turned the corner to enter the lobby, he saw him, and Fushimi couldn't help but grin. He strolled over to Misaki, who was looking just like a fucking alley cat plucked off the street and plunked down into the middle of the bed. If he had cat ears, they'd be flat against his head. Picturing Misaki with cat ears made Fushimi grin.

"What the fuck is wrong with this place?" Misaki complained as soon as Fushimi was within a yard of him. "It's like a goddamned museum or something!"

"It's called a _place of business_ ," Fushimi affected boredom. "It's where grown ups go to do serious work. Are you interested in joining up? I'm not sure you can pass the intelligence requirements..." Fushimi smirked.

"Shut the fuck up, you damned monkey!" Yata shot back.

"Keep your voice down, Mi~sa~kiiii," Fushimi snickered, "or you'll be asked to leave. This isn't some bar where thugs hang out."

"No? The only thing it's missing is the liquor, because it's sure full of thugs," Yata snarled, and then he held something out for Fushimi.

Fushimi just stared at it. He... but...

"J-just go ahead and take it!" Yata was practically vibrating with nervous tension.

Fushimi scowled. "Why the fuck should I? Are you telling me you came all the way over here to give me..."

"It wasn't my fucking idea!" Yata yelled, looking angrily at Fushimi. "I had to! Totsuka-san told me to!"

Fushimi's blood ran cold, and he lost all expression. "Why the hell are you mentioning that person? Are you seeing ghosts now? If you're going crazy, I should probably report you. A psycho with your powers..."

"Fuck you, monkey!" Yata snarled. "I had to clear out Totsuka-san's shitty apartment and he had a shitty little journal like he wrote crap in it and he wrote a letter because Anna told him he'd die young and it said to me that he wanted me to give you this on his birthday so here I am so just take it!" Yata shoved the object out again.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?!" Fushimi snapped. "He's was fucking with you! Anna told him some shit so he thought it would be super hilarious if he left a note you might find! That's it! That was his goddamned idea of a joke!"

"I know that!" Yata cried out desperately. "Do you think I don't _know_ that?! But what choice do I have? He asked me to do it and he's dead so I can't fucking explain to him that you're the last person I'd ever want to see in the whole fucking world!"

Fushimi felt like he was being torn in half. "His birthday is goddamned Valentine's day, you goddamned moron! Why in the world do you think he wanted you to give me _chocolate?_ And anyway, I doubt he actually meant for you to go to a fucking convenience store and buy me a shitty candy bar! This is ridiculous!"

Yata shoved the bar into Fushimi's chest, and Fushimi's scar started to itch so crazily it nearly drove him mad. "Who the fuck cares?! Just take it, you fucking monkey! It's probably better for you than whatever shit you were going to eat for lunch, so just take it and think about Totsuka-san for a minute, ok!?"

"I don't need this fucking shit!" Fushimi roared, and he grabbed the bar from Yata, setting it on fire as he squeezed it with his fist. "Why would you think I'd need a goddamned fucking piece of shit candy bar to think about that asshole _today?_ But I _don't want this_ , so just _fuck off_ and leave me alone!" The ashes of the candy bar fell onto the fine Persian-style rug, and Fushimi turned and stormed off, his right fist glowing red and his left glowing blue.

He'd just turned into the hallway off of the lobby when an all together too calm and too composed voice stopped him cold. "I always thought it was appropriate for that man's birthday to be today. It was like some sort of tongue-in-cheek jest. Perfectly suited to him."

Fushimi glared through narrowed eyes, and bit the inside of his lip. "You didn't know him. _Sir_."

Munakata smiled dreamily at Fushimi. "No, well, to be completely accurate, I never cared to know him. He was exactly the sort of person I detest the most," he laughed, and Fushimi's fingernails cut into his flesh. "But _you_ liked him. Which I find... curious, because _you_ don't like anyone." Munakata raised an eyebrow and looked back toward the lobby, as if daring Fushimi to point out that at one point in his life, he'd had a best friend, and they'd worked perfectly as a team, backing each other up. Once, he'd lived with someone he trusted and didn't hate. 

Once.

Fushimi straightened up, and inhaled slowly through his nose. "That's not true, sir. It just seems that way because I dislike being around _you_ so much." He strode off, knowing that messing with Kings was like throwing stones into the ocean to get back at a tsunami, and Munakata's cold chuckles made Fushimi feel like he should be nervous, but he just no longer cared.

He was going to sleep off this fucking headache.

  


* * *

  



End file.
